Gritty Bar Poem (poems from old notebooks, October 16, 2004)

The kids is starved,
the wife’s knocked up,
an I just barfed
the last rum up.

Look, the tide’s out,
the quahogs thin,
so shut yer mout
an git to diggin.

Oh fill yer boots,
ya useless gits—
we’re outta hoots
an cigarits.

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Art is lies, Charlottetown, Harbour, John MacKenzie, Language, Poem tweets, Poems from old notebooks, Social Commentary, The Sea and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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